A Taste of Fear
by chevygirl815
Summary: He awakened something in her. But was it enough for her to accept what he was? Dexter/OC fic. Rated M for mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

***AUTHOR's NOTE* I don't own or claim to own anything except my OC Kaitlyn. This story contains swearing, very mature themes, bloodplay, etc… I'm not sure how far I'm gonna go with this, I just had a few ideas and wanted to play around with them and it turned into a story that I'm enjoying quite a bit and I hope others will as well. As far as writing though, I'm not big on and this is only my second fanfic and I got bored with my first one before I finished it so yea.. Kinda hoping that doesn't happen with this one, but who knows.. Anyway, here ya go. Enjoy =)**

_Where am I?_

My eyelids felt heavy and I was having a hard time opening them. I felt tired and weak, like I'd slept for a very long time. Opening my eyes and slowly becoming aware of my surroundings, I realized I couldn't move my arms and legs. I realized I was tied down to the table I was laying on. It was cold, almost as if I was naked. I was, except for the plastic wrap which secured my body to the table.

Turning my head to look around and try to figure out what the hell was going on I saw him. The guy from the bar, the one that had been watching me half the night, was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room.

"Who the hell are you? And what the fuck is all this?" I asked him calmly.

"I'm Dexter. I'm a serial killer and tonight I'm going to kill you." He said matter-of-factly.

He got up and walked to the table to stand over me. I noticed the knife he had in his hand just as he lifted it to my face and cut into my cheek. After taking a drop of my blood and placing it on a slide he stopped and looked at me. He no longer had the emotionless look in his eyes he'd had at first. Now he looked… curious and slightly irritated.

"What's the matter with you? Aren't you afraid?" He asked.

"Not much scares me anymore." I said simply.

"Well now, what fun is it for me if you're not scared? Aren't you even going to ask why I'm doing this?"

"I think it's kind of obvious why you're doing this. You're a serial killer. Serial killers kill people… Or did you not get that memo?" I've always been a smartass and even in my worst moments I've never been able to suppress that part of me. Maybe that's what always got me into so much trouble.

Ignoring my sarcasm he asked "Why aren't you afraid? Do you want to die?"

"What would it matter? Nothing to lose and no one will miss me."

"Why did you do it?" He asked as he pointed to a picture on the wall, a crime scene photo of my dead ex-boyfriend with a carving knife shoved through his heart and his head bashed in. Next to it was another crime scene photo, this one of my stepfather in a similar condition minus the knife. "The cops never did find anyone to pin the murders on, but sometimes you have to dig a little deeper."

Now I was looking at him with curiosity. "You're the Bay Harbor Butcher aren't you? That's why you were following me, watching me."

He didn't say anything, just waited for me to continue.

"I'm not a murderer. It was all in self-defense, both times. I see you research your victims well Dexter, but you obviously don't research your victims' victims. If you had, you'd know my stepfather was a convicted sex offender. He tried to rape me when I was 15. So I beat his skull in with a shovel. My ex-boyfriend wasn't very different. When I broke up with him he wasn't very happy about it. A few months later after seeing me with another guy, he went nuts, showed up at my house late one night, beat the crap outta me, and threatened to kill me if I didn't take him back. In a panicked attempt to avoid being raped, I grabbed a knife from the kitchen and stabbed him with it and proceeded to beat _his_ skull in with a baseball bat. Excuse me for defending myself. Should I have let them rape me instead Mr. _Serial Killer_?" I said placing all emphasis on 'serial killer', my smart aleck way of saying "_As if you're so much better_."

Taking the hint he said "I only kill murderers."

"How ironic." I shot back dryly. "So are you gonna kill me or am I free to go?"

"Well if what you say is true, you don't fit the code so I can't kill you. But how do I know you won't go to the police if I did let you go?"

"Go to the police with what evidence?" I asked rolling my eyes. "Sure I could go tell the whole world what happened here tonight, but who says they'd believe a word of it? Besides, I obviously don't care about much. If I did would I be laying here naked, strapped to a table with plastic wrap, having a calm discussion about why I've murdered 2 people with a man who planned on killing me 5 minutes ago?"

He just looked at me for a minute, considering his options. Then he pulled out a syringe and stabbed me in the neck. _Guess he decided to kill me after all. Whatever._


	2. Chapter 2

_What am I thinking? _Dexter thought. He was risking everything by letting her live. But if she was telling the truth he had no choice. If she was telling the truth and he killed her, he would be breaking the code, and that would make him no better than the monsters he took such pleasure in ridding the world of.

He had to know for sure. So he'd given her another dose of m99 to knock her out again, cleaned up the scene, and drove back to his apartment after loading her in his SUV. He had to get back home and do some research on her stepfather and ex-boyfriend to check out her story.

Sure enough, she was telling the truth. Her stepfather had been a convicted sex offender as she'd said. And her ex had had his own troubled past as well, coming from a broken home with a history of violence and spending a fair amount of his teenage years in juvi.

_How very disappointing._ Dexter thought. It'd been a whole 2 weeks since his last victim and from the moment he had laid eyes on Kaitlyn Woods, his darkest urges had roared to life within him. He had never wanted to kill someone as much as he wanted to kill her. To slice her pretty little throat open and watch her bleed out would've been amazing. Even the small cut he had inflicted to make a slide of her blood had given him a hard on.

He looked over at her, still passed out on his couch. Her long, dark red curls hung over the edge, almost reaching the floor. He thought about how she's looked laying on his table. Her piercing dark blue eyes staring up at him with defiance as if she wasn't at the mercy of the Bay Harbor Butcher. She had known who he was and that didn't seem to bother her. Was there someone in this world after all who he wouldn't have to hide his true self from? Someone who would accept him for what he was?

As his eyes made their way down her body, he once again began to appreciate it maybe a little too much. She was short, around 5"2' and thin, petite, but had curves in all the right places that were so easy to make out under the extra t-shirt he'd had in his car that he'd put on her before bringing her back here . It had taken every ounce of self-control he had to remember his purpose when he had been removing her clothes to place her on his table. He'd never experienced a sexual attraction this strong to any woman before. Moving his eyes back up to her face he saw that she was awake, watching him.

"So you decided not to kill me." She said

"I had to be sure you were telling the truth." He said walking to the fridge to grab a beer.

"None for me?" She asked referring to the beer. "I mean c'mon, you just tried to kill me. The least you could do is offer me a beer." She said with a raised eyebrow and a crooked little smirk.

He studied her for a minute before grabbing another beer from the fridge, popping the top, and crossing the room to hand it to her. "Does it not bother you that I just tried to kill you?"

"Not really."

"Why not?"

She took a sip of beer and eyed him for a minute. "Who knows? Maybe I'm just as screwed up as you are."

"You have no idea." He said.

"Maybe not, but neither do you." She said glaring at him.

Something had happened to this girl, something more than he knew. She was hardened, didn't seem to have any fear in her. _Oh how I would love to awaken it, to see those beautiful blue eyes filled with fear, fear of what I might do to her._

"Then enlighten me." He said, suddenly very curious about this woman.

"It's none of your business." She finished her beer, stood, and looked up at him. "Now, if you don't mind I need to go."

Deciding he wasn't quite done with her yet and not trusting her enough to let her walk out the door where she could expose him to the whole world, he grabbed her arm as she tried to push past him. She looked back up at him and for a split second he saw it. She was scared, she was terrified. She was simply very good at hiding it. He loved that feeling. That feeling of complete power, of having another human being completely at his mercy, knowing that they knew he hold their very life in his hands. It's what drove him, his urges, his dark passenger. It was what he looked for in each of his victims, what he was looking for in her when he had her on his table.

That brief flicker of terror in her eyes was what did him in. He looked at her full lips then back up to her eyes. She was looking at him with that same look of defiance, this time with a hint of curiosity. He lost it and crushed his lips to hers.


	3. Chapter 3

I hesitated for a minute before pulling away.

"I'm sorry." He said looking down and backing away, never letting go of my arm. "I can't let you leave yet. I still don't know if I can trust you."

_What is it about this man?_ I didn't understand it. Anybody in my position would be terrified and trying to escape, begging and pleading with this man to let them go. But me... I was intrigued.

For the first time in, I couldn't even say how many years, I had felt something other than emptiness. For years I had felt dead inside and a moment ago when this man grabbed my arm, he had made me wonder for only a second what he would do. He had made me worry what he might do. Why? I couldn't say. I didn't care about anything or anyone anymore, not even myself.

When I was laying on that table where he could have so easily ended my life, I couldn't have cared less. Now, all of a sudden, I was scared of him. And I liked it. I liked knowing there was a part of me left that could still feel. It not only fascinated me. It excited me.

Wanting more of it and wondering how far I could push him, I jerked my arm from his grip and turned for the door. He was on me in an instant and before I even realized what happened he had me turned with my back up against the wall, his body pinned against mine. I could just feel the power radiating from his body and it was exhilarating.

"So you are afraid of me." He said looking in my eyes. I could hear the tension in his voice and feel it in his body. He was holding back, trying to restrain himself.

"Is that what you want?" I asked, just now realizing it was. He was a killer, a predator. He liked the feeling of power, being in control. He wanted me to be afraid of him and to try to get away so he could chase me and catch me. And kill me. Realizing that last part, that he wanted to kill me, but was prevented from doing so because of some moral code sent another wave of fear through me and, in turn, thrilled me even more.

"Yes." He replied with only the one word. I was suddenly very turned on and that realization confirmed what I always suspected. I was fucking crazy. Some guy, the fucking Bay Harbor Butcher of all people, had stalked me, kidnapped me, almost murdered me, and was now holding me captive in his apartment and I was turned on by it.

_Does it get any crazier?_ I thought. _Oh what the hell? It's been too long since I truly had any fun and I know if anyone can make that happen again, it's this man. If he kills me in the end then so be it. What do I have to live for anyway?_

"Then yes, I'm absolutely terrified." I whispered in his ear right before biting down on his neck just hard enough to surprise him so I could slip from under him.

He turned and looked at me and froze. He reminded me of a wolf stalking its prey. That brought a mischievous grin to my face. I wanted him to know I was toying with him, that I was enjoying this and I wanted him to enjoy it. I let the smile fall from my mouth and replaced the look with one that made me look like the frightened little deer I knew he wanted me to be. I backed up slowly as he started stepping forward, just as cautiously.

After a few steps I turned and ran back towards what I assumed was the bedroom. I never even heard him behind me, but just before I turned around to see if he had followed he threw his arm around my waist, lifted me up and threw me to the bed. Just as swiftly he climbed on top of me as I tried to back up towards the headboard. He reached down and put his hand around my throat to still me at the same moment he reached up with the other hand to pull his shirt up over his head.

"You shouldn't tempt me Kaitlyn." He leaned down to whisper in my ear.

"Don't call me that. It's Kate." I said defiantly looking him directly in the eyes.

He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a knife that was sitting there. Holding it in front of my face so I could see just how sharp it was he asked "Do you have any idea how badly I want to cut into your creamy smooth skin right now? How much I want to watch you bleed?"

My sharp intake of breath made him smile down at me. "Oh you really do know how to entertain a man, don't you _Kaitlyn_?"

Dexter began raking his eyes over her body pausing at her breasts which were rising and falling with each breath. When his gaze reached her stomach he reached down and lifted the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing, exposing her. He lifted it above her breasts, and then lowered the knife to her flat stomach.

He pressed the blade to her skin and slowly dragged it across her flesh, watching the blood that poured from the wound. He was captivated by the sight, just as he always was when he cut into one of his victims. But this was different. Not only did he have the urge to cut this woman, to plunge his knife deep into her body, but he wanted to fuck her too, own her. And then he wanted to kill her.

He looked back to her face to see the fear in her eyes. She had them shut and an expression almost as if she was enjoying this. "Open your eyes" He ordered. She obeyed and he saw that her eyes had darkened. They were a deep blue, almost navy. _She's just as turned on by this as I am._ Dexter realized.

He bent down and licked away the blood dripping from her side. Then he kissed his way further down her stomach. He made another cut on the top of her thigh. After watching the blood ooze from it he licked it away as well.

Sitting back he looked at her face again. He let go of his hold on her throat so that he could grab the shirt she was wearing instead. With the knife in his other hand he cut it right down the front, leaving her naked.

Setting the knife back down on the nightstand, Dexter stood up off the bed. For a minute I thought he was going to stop and walk away and I had to admit I was disappointed. Then he looked back down at me and simply said "Run."

The shirt he had cut off of me was still hanging on my shoulders, only open in the front. I decided to play with him a little more. So I got up off the bed and looked at him for a second before turning my back to him. I felt his eyes on me the whole time. I slowly lowered the shirt from my back and stopped when it was right about the curve of my hips.

Looking over my shoulder I slowly turned, moving the shirt in front of me as I did. I just couldn't help teasing him. I walked up to him and leaned up to take his earlobe in between my teeth letting the shirt drop to the floor as I did. That daring little move elicited a growl from him and he pushed me back against the wall just like before. I could feel the insistent press of his erection on my lower belly and that only turned me on more.

"I said run." He bit out through clenched teeth.

"No." I said leaning into him and reaching for the button on his pants.

Watching my face the whole time he let me unbutton his pants and reach inside to wrap my hand around him. He growled again, but this time it was different. Low in his throat, almost like a warning. He had me back on the bed again before I even realized it. My legs were hanging over the edge and he was kneeling on the floor between them. He started kissing his way around the tops and insides of my thighs biting, almost painfully, every now and then.

All of a sudden he forced my legs wider apart and thrust a finger inside me at the same moment he kissed his way to my wet hot center. He added another finger and then another, and flicked his tongue over my clit until I was right on the edge. And then he stopped.

He stood up, grabbed me by the waist and turned me over onto my stomach, feet still hanging off the edge of the bed. After dropping his pants to the floor he entered me in one swift motion and began thrusting into me.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him reach over and grab the knife off the nightstand again. I could feel him lightly running it along my back and then I felt him cut into me again and lick the blood away. Then he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my body back up against his. He reached around and held the knife to my throat.

"Do you know how simple it would be to slice open your throat right now? I could watch the blood pour from your neck as I come in you." He whispered in my ear. It made me wonder for a minute if he would actually do it. But then he dropped the knife on the bed and put his hand around my neck. His thrusting sped up and I felt him tense as we both reached our peak together.

"You're staying here until I know I can trust you." He said before pulling away from me and going into the bathroom and coming back with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a clean towel to clean the cuts he'd made.


End file.
